Riding Out the Wave
by Hikareh
Summary: Pearl likes it when things are tender and quiet, when she can imagine that it'll be easy when she eventually tells Marina about how twisted up and warm she gets around her. Until then, Pearl likes to pretend. But, when a brand deal with Mr. Grizz goes south, Pearl must confront things directly. /Pearlina/
1. Adventures in Babysitting

Notes: How about that Octo expansion, huh? I've loved these two since the game came out, but the Octo expansion really cemented a lot of things about them for me, so I finally got around to writing something. We need more fic of these two, so I'll gladly throw my addition on to the pile!

* * *

 _Riding the Wave_

 _Ch. 1: Adventures in Babysitting_

* * *

It's a brand deal that does it. Grizzco is fishy, but they (Marina) don't want to alienate a loyal advertiser and they (still Marina) want to support a local business. Pearl couldn't care less, to be completely honest, but Marina is so positive! About the whole thing! Saying things like "Oh Pearl, just _think_! It'll bring in freelancers! Then Mr. Grizz will be set!" Pearl knows for a fact that Mr. Grizz is already set, considering the emails she's read on her father's computer, but she doesn't mention that because Marina is so damn cute when she's smiling and clapping her hands.

Yeah, Pearl has a problem. She knows she's wrapped around Marina's finger, but Marina doesn't know it yet. Pearl also knows that she can't say anything about her feelings (oh, and there are many feelings), because she's... Well, she's scared. And she's not sure Marina feels the same way. Well, she kinda doesn't know. Marina is really handsy and touchy-feely, but that's probably a Marina thing. An... Ocotling thing maybe... Agent 8 isn't like that but maybe it's a specific Octoling thing. An if-you're-close-to-an-Octoling thing.

Yeah, Peal knows she's hopeless.

Pearl's had an embarrassing crush on Marina for a while, but the whole Agent 8 thing really localized and magnified it for her. For a while there, she thought for sure Marina was going to figure it out, especially after she threatened to cut Cap'n Cuttlefish if he hurt her, but Marina never figured it out. But, there are moments when they're back in their apartment and Marina touches Pearl just there, with this tender look on her face, and Pearl swears that she sees something there. Marina's smiles are like the clouds parting before a brilliant sunset, but those moments look like an emotion that Pearl recognizes but can't put a name to. Marina always looks at Pearl so fondly when it's late and they're lit only by the television; things are softer then, including their bickering, and especially Marina's quiet gazes. In these moments, Pearl swears that there's something growing between them that they're tiptoeing around, testing, probing, but never leaping into.

But, predictably, come morning, with the harsh light of the sun and then the studio lights, Pearl isn't so sure. She never makes her move, never asks, because this is something that should be reserved for quiet and private, but by the time they get there, she's talked herself back into the corner of uncertainty. She second guesses, fears she'll ruin things with Marina if she asks, so she keeps her crush to herself.

So, the brand deal. What Pearl thought it would be: Posing with Marina in a bunch of Grizzco Brand clothing from Mr. Grizz's new clothing line (it looks about as grungy and crusty as the stuff he throws at his part-timers as compensation for working a few shifts; Pearl half-expects all the clothes to be straight from the bowels of Mr. Grizz's closet, but she doesn't say that, just wrinkles her posh little nose at it like her Papa taught her to), holding their signature weapons and smiling a lot (well, Marina smiling, Pearl glowering and smirking because she knows she looks like a gremlin). But, that's not what she gets.

Record scratch, freeze-frame. Right there. Witness Pearl's personal hell.

What she gets from the brand deal: Spawning Grounds at dusk, two cameras, attached to drones, two teammates, who look to be as new as the Jr. Marks stitched into the shoulders of their Grizzco Mandated Uniforms, dualies and splat brella in the rotation, both of which the newbies are blinking at in confusion, Marina with an Octobrush and Pearl with a Splattershot Jr.

So, no, she's not happy.

She poses for the pictures. She follows Grizz's barked, tinny orders when they filter in from her earpiece. She's not happy about it. One time, she pretends to not hear him and jumps in the water and he's contractually obligated to revive her, and she _lives_ for the sound of his cursing as he does so. But then Marina gives her _this look_ , the kind of look that makes her want to crawl out of her own skin and beg for forgiveness because she's disappointed her.

She's so, so, _so_ hopeless but she doesn't care really. Marina makes her want to be better with all of her passion and attention to detail, and the sight of her hands on the turntables always does something to Pearl that just lights her up inside and she just. Wants to make Marina happy. And if that means dealing with the angry bear man then so be it.

"You know what I think?" Pearl says as they're taking a short snack break. (At least Grizz has the decency to provide food, even if it is cheap and stale.) "I think Grizzco is a glorified daycare."

Marina glances at the two inklings standing guard over the snacks. One of them has the timing to take a long, loud slurp out of a juice box. "I think you might be right," Marina answers, bemused. Then, she asks them: "Hey, how old are you?"

"Fifteen," they chorus in their high-pitched woomy voices.

"Thought so," Pearl says. Marina does that thing where she tries not to laugh and fails, so what comes out is an adorable little snort. Pearl has to look away to hide an embarrassing blush.

"This is child labor," Marina mumbles as Grizz calls them back out to finish the shoot. Why he's in charge is a mystery to Pearl. Shouldn't there be some sort of middleman out here? What about their manager? This is the last time Pearl's letting Marina handle business for the foreseeable future.

"Maybe so," Pearl mumbles back as she watches the kids shoot each other with their weapons. The ink pellets off them harmlessly and paints the immaculate floor, causing Grizz to grumble. Marina mumbles something about a Squee-G being the perfect fix for that but Grizz doesn't hear her.

They take a few more photos and things are looking to wrap up nicely. The kids are actually pretty good at modeling, so Pearl wonders if they're actually not just some apprentices that Grizz picked up off some roster. Explains why they don't know how to use the weapons all that well, if they spend all their time modeling at least.

Then, of course, the foghorn goes off.

"Uh oh," the kids, who Pearl is now calling Dualies and Brella, chime together.

"'Uh oh?' Why uh oh?" Pearl asks, but she has a sinking feeling in her gut, because she knows what the foghorn means.

"Grizz, what the heck is going on?" Marina demands. Her hand flies up to her ear, as if that'll make Grizz's answer come out clearer.

"I forgot to mention," comes the grizzled voice. "There's a wave coming in."

"There's a _what_?" Pearl squawks. Her hands tighten around her Splattershot Jr., and she feels Sheldon's painstakingly crafted casing crack from the strain.

Marina is pacing—not a good sign. "We're jumping back to the boat," she commands.

"Nope, sorry missy." Pearl can practically _hear_ Grizz's slimy smile through the comms. "Super jumping is restricted in this area and I have all the permits. We need some action shots. Smile for the cameras!"

" _Grizz—_!" Pearl begins, taking in a deep breath to unleash the most vibrant and vile curse words she can come up with (the ones she saves for the special occasions), but she's cut off.

"See you back at the boat!" Grizz sing-songs. Across the Spawning Grounds, the all-too-familiar basket appears. "Now go get me some golden eggs!"

Comms go silent with a loud buzzing sound. Pearl rips hers out. "I'll kill him," she declares.

"Not if I get to him first," Marina mumbles darkly. She grips her Octobrush tighter as the foghorn comes again.

Pearl can see smallfry and chum climb out of the water on the docks. "Let's kill him together. Hey kids," she directs towards Dualies and Brella, who are cowering together, "group up and stick with me and Marina. We got this."

Across the Spawning Grounds, a Steelhead heaves itself out of the water and onto the docks. The kids scurry to huddle behind Marina's taller frame, and she holds her Octobrush out with perfect form. Suddenly, Pearl remembers that Marina used to be part of an elite fighting force. An Octoling force, and she was high ranking. She holds the Octobrush like it's an extension of her arm and her whole stance changes, crouched, lethal, familiar, deadly.

Pearl is... hm. That's attractive, isn't it? That's killer. Pearl forgets where she is for a second as she watches Marina launch herself toward the chum. She even takes the Steelhead out by swinging her Octobrush a few times from right below it. Then, she jolts Pearl out of her daze by yelling for help with the eggs. Pearl nearly trips over herself and can't find the trigger of her weapon for a few seconds. But, when she manages it, Marina beams at her.

And that's... _hm_.

They're on the third wave when it finally happens. Pressed against the basket with two dead teammates (Brella and Dualies fought hard) and next to no ink, Pearl knows that her end is coming. She sees a cohock wind back, pan primed to bludgeon her into an inky pulp, and she flinches, her weapon useless. They're down three eggs and there's only a couple seconds left. What's worse is that the whole world will get to see her temporary demise, and that hurts more than anything. She may survive this, but her career probably won't.

She closes her eyes. This part is never easy. Feeling her whole being fling outward in a burst is never fun, and the resulting respawn is even less fun, but, like every other inkling, she's used to it. Luckily, Grizzco's jobs are pretty safe and most people respawn without trouble. There are always exceptions though—

" _Get away from my Pearlie_!" comes a cry, so guttural that it takes a few seconds for Pearl to identify the voice. That's _Marina_ , flying through the air as if she has wings, swinging her Octobrush (because of course the weapons didn't rotate like they were supposed to; this was a glorified photoshoot after all) and howling like there's death hot on her heals. She destroys the cohocks and chum in a couple swipes of her weapon, slams a bomb down on their teammates' life preservers, and they all pop eggs into the basket, grabbing quota at the last second.

It's the hottest thing Pearl's ever seen. She's cemented in place as the foghorn goes off again and the salmonids turn tail and run. Marina gives her a bright smile, the complete opposite of the harbinger of death that she just embodied, and she scoops Pearl up into her long arms. Face pressed to Marina's chest, Pearl can only blink in surprise, limp.

"Oh Pearlie, I was so worried! I turned around you were _gone_!" She gives Pearl a loose shake. "We're supposed to stick together! You know that!"

Pearl very much wants to say that she'll always stick with Marina, if she'll have her, but her tongue is stuck to the roof of her mouth and her teeth feel like they've been rattled loose. She swallows once, forcefully, and nods.

"Y-you got it," she manages, and almost collapses as Marina releases her. Luckily, Marina grabs her again, this time by the arms, and holds her steady. "You didn't have to save me though," Pearl continues, because she has an image to uphold. "Grizz is a pretty good babysitter. Almost everyone respawns."

Marina laughs, and it sounds a little hysterical to Pearl. "I can't stand to see you splatted. I hate it." Her voice is so gentle, so tender, something Pearl isn't accustomed to hearing, and Marina rubs her thumb just there, on Pearl's arm, exciting little goosebumps.

Pearl's head is still spinning so that doesn't make sense to her. "Wha—"

Maybe it's the nerves. Maybe it's the panic. Maybe it's the relief. But, Marina pulls Pearl close again. Everything slows down, right there. Their teammates in their squid partying become muffled background noise and all Pearl can hear is her own heartbeats, her own breathing. Because suddenly, all she can see is Marina, and her face, getting closer and closer.

Until, their lips are touching. Marina's arms pull Pearl impossibly closer, as if trying to meld their bodies together, and Pearl swears she can feel Marina's hearts, hammering against her own chest. Marina's hair is wriggling around them, and Pearl feels one of Marina's hands come up to cup her jaw.

The world is nothing but Marina, and Pearl nearly falls down again as her knees give in. The shock of the last few minutes is too much for her but that's okay. She uses her weak knees as an excuse to surge forward and press her lips harder into Marina's and is delighted when Marina squeaks and then hums against her lips.

When they eventually pull apart, the world has calmed down. Their teammates aren't looking at them, respectfully, and all of the salmonids are gone. Everything seems clearer. Pearl can feel every single pore on her face as she smiles.

Then, she realizes what they've done and that smile falters. The cameras whirr above them, trained on their heads.

"Shit," Marina mumbles. Pearl can't help but share the sentiment.

* * *

 _Reviews are cherished._


	2. How We Got Here

Notes: This chapter is a bunch of flashback because that's how I do things. We get back to the present action _right_ at the end (hence the tense change), but otherwise we're just having a look into the past.

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 _Riding Out the Wave_

 _How We Got Here_

* * *

Here's how Pearl realized:

 **1.**

Marina had (has) a terrible habit of pushing herself far too hard at night, often burning the midnight oil well until she made herself sick with exhaustion. Usually, it only happened when she was writing, but sometimes it was just because she could, or because she wanted to. Something about having control of her own life now, which, at the time, made no sense to Pearl, but now that she knows where Marina came from, she understands. A little. For the most part, Pearl is someone who doesn't pry, and she usually just let Marina go.

But, something happened one night. Marina was up late in her room, light on, when Pearl woke up with a splitting headache (possible hangover? Pearl wasn't even sure what she _drank_ at Crusty Sean's party, but _holy shit_ was it potent). She stumbled her way toward the light, head fuzzy with the low beat of a tympany, reverberating, reverberating, reverberating off her skull and down her spine. She remembers thinking that she was too young to know what it felt like to be old, but then she heard something thump in Marina's room, rattling the door. Marina threw something, her mind supplied a few seconds late, but Pearl was already turning the knob, oblivious to her own safety.

What she found: Marina in her pajamas (a pair of shorts, tied tight with a drawstring, a tank top, one strap falling off her shoulder, sitting cross-legged on her bed with her computer and some sheet music in front of her. Pearl always begged the sheet music off her, mostly because Pearl thought it was kind of pointless, but Marina liked it. She said it was tangible, and she liked to feel the music appear from her hand. Pearl thought that was a bit pretentious, but it was also so, _so_ Marina that she let it slide), a few empty chip bags scattered around like corpses, a pair of discarded headphones.

A dictionary sat innocently on the floor near the door, and Pearl put it together quickly. Language frustration, something to do with lyrics, or perhaps a rap. Pearl sighed and kicked the dictionary aside.

"I told you I would do the lyrics this time," she said, slowly, not for Marina's sake but for her own. Her head was still beating that drum, except now it was in crescendo.

Marina's room was only lit by a single lamp, near the bed, and it cast a pink cast on everything with its slightly opaque shade. It made Marina's hair look washed out, not quite the green Pearl was used to, and that was strange. It stirred something inside Pearl she didn't recognize as she watched Marina push one tentacle behind her ear.

"I know you did," Marina answered, soft, gentle, without the sharp edges of day. She was clearly exhausted, but still, she pushed herself. It would be something to be admired, if Pearl wasn't so concerned.

And how strange that was. Usually, she trusted people to take care of themselves, especially Marina, had enough junk to deal with in her own life, but there she was, hand-wringing over Marina's sleep habits.

Maybe it was the hangover.

"Then why are you doing it?" Pearl could feel how quiet her voice was. It was unfamiliar, because she usually had two modes: loud and silent. There was never an in-between. Yet, here she was, padding across the room, voice coming from a place in her throat that was so unused that she had to cough to clear a passage.

Marina shrugged and pulled her knees in to her chest to make room for Pearl to sit. "I have to get better sometime."

Pearl nudged Marina with her shoulder. "I know, but you don't have to do it alone, dummy."

That made Marina smile. It was small, innocent, and Pearl felt something blossom in her stomach, something that opened up just slightly, something fluttery and gentle. In the moment, she blamed it on the hangover.

 **2.**

Concerts became common, and often Pearl trusted Marina to hit her cues. But, this time, something happened. She watched Marina closely, from the sway of her hips to her hands on the turntables. The only time she didn't watch Marina was when she was hitting her own cues, and then only barely. Pearl almost missed one entirely, had to dart across stage, grab the mic off the stand, and then slide on her knees to keep herself from falling off the edge. It was a pretty sick move in hindsight and it made the crowd go wild, but, as she spat her rap into the microphone, she saw Marina's hands come down from her mouth, an involuntary fear reaction to Pearl's bone-headedness.

She hated that, she realized, hated seeing Marina scared, hated being the cause of it. More so, she hated that she could have avoided it.

The next show, she found herself preoccupied again. She loved to watch Marina sing, loved the way she leaned into the long notes, the way she danced with her arms, the way her whole presence changed when she put her hands on the turntables and she scratched. Gone was the fluid, graceful singer, in her place was the jagged record scratches and the hype, the jumps, the fist pumps. Pearl found herself caught up in the sheer physicality of Marina, from the way her long legs looked as she leaned into the table to the way her over-large zipper flashed under the stage lights.

Pearl imagined grabbing that zipper and pulling Marina close, so close that their bodies were flush. She imagined looking up into Marina's face, smiling like a fiend, and she imagined grabbing that perfect face and kissing her, right there on stage.

She couldn't blame it on the hangover that time.

 **3.**

Instead of confronting herself, Pearl blamed it on stage fever. The flashing lights, the pulsing crowd, the rush when everything went perfectly, Marina's excited little prance to grab Pearl's hand at the end of the last song, the heat of it all—the lights, the crowd, the rush, Marina.

Plus, it wasn't surprising. Marina was attractive. She knew it. All of Inkopolis knew it. The only person who didn't seem to know it was Marina, but she also played the oblivious, innocent, cute one well. Sometimes, even Pearl couldn't tell what was act and what wasn't.

So, Pearl wasn't surprised that she was having stage daydreams of kissing Marina. But, she was in denial. She did try and succeed in blaming it on everything except her own feelings. It was the stage fever, it was because Marina was too damn hot, it was because Pearl was too weak, it was because Pearl was too dry; it had been too long since her last relationship and she was aching for something. But, most of all, it was because Marina was _safe_ , a safe, good friend, someone who Pearl couldn't fuck up on because they _trusted_ each other. Of course, she was daydreaming about that. It was practically domestic, how much they relied on each other.

At the afterparty, Pearl found herself a cute twenty-something with long hair and hips like pears, and she almost took her home. Almost. The make-out was familiar but nothing to write home about, and as she was shakily keying in the code for the door, she realized that she didn't want Marina to see her like this. And she didn't want to see herself like this. So, she made up an excuse ( _something something my roommate is a light sleeper_ ), paid for the cab to take the girl home, and she trudged up to her room with something like a boulder sitting in her stomach.

Marina wasn't even home.

 **4.**

Marina made breakfast sometimes. Usually, it wasn't at a reasonable breakfast time though; it was almost always around midnight, when they were both awake but avoiding each other. The midnight-one-two hours were reserved for alone time because they spent all day together, but sometimes Marina wanted company without the conversation attached to it. That was where midnight breakfast came in.

Pearl was drawn from her room by the smell of pancakes, because she was easy, and she easily poured the orange juice—super pulp for herself, no pulp for Marina, an argument that they had every week on grocery shopping day and she knew would eventually become a splatfest because that was just her luck. They met at their small table, and Pearl dug into the pancakes like a shark, only coming up for air to grab more off the pile. Marina was watching her, her green-tipped fingers clasped around her glass of juice like a prayer, and it was only then that Pearl realized she wasn't eating.

She considered it. Talking would be tantamount to a cardinal sin because they had one rule at midnight breakfast: silence. But, clearly Marina wanted something.

Pearl was about to ask, about to break the rule, but Marina merely smiled at her and reached across the table. She grabbed Pearl's clammy hand in her larger, warm one, and squeezed.

"This is nice," was all she said, and she leaned back in her chair, at ease, and sipped her orange juice.

The blossoming thing bloomed then, releasing a flutter of unstoppable birds. Pearl nearly swallowed her own tongue because Marina was _so beautiful_ , _so thoughtful, so perfect—_

And Pearl was way in over her head.

 **5.**

In the end, she came to terms with it. She didn't want to put the word to it, but she definitely felt some kind of way about her best friend, her partner, her... her _Marina_. She was fluttery, and blossomy, and flustered, and shaky, and all kinds of cliched adjectives. She found herself writing lyrics like _I'll super jump right into your heart_. She found herself _flirting_ and meaning it. She found Marina flirting back, and she laid awake at night, panicked, trying to figure out if it was real or not.

Her father had always taught her to go after everything she wanted, and she always took that advice to heart. But, with this, where her _heart_ , her _partnership_ , her _future_ was at risk, she hesitated, waffled, spun her wheels in place because things were _great_ now. Things were going perfectly. They had a following; they were selling albums; they were doing the news; they were getting along; they were _living_. Marina was finally making enough money to support herself and Pearl didn't need her allowance anymore (even though she still took it). Things were great!

Except this one thing.

This one breathtaking, terrible, amazing thing. Pearl started noticing small things, like the way Marina flipped her headphones on to her head, or the way Marina clumsily used chopsticks, or how Marina avoided touching people for the most part (except Pearl, never Pearl), or how Marina wrapped her arms around her exposed stomach when she was uncomfortable. Pearl could write an _Encyclopedia Marina_ with all the shit she noticed, and that just complicated things. She wanted to get to know Marina more, but she didn't want to fall into the trap. She wanted to stay professional.

And, she was scared. But she only admitted that to herself, late at night when she was deep under the covers. Only then did she allow herself to be scared—of rejection, of screwing everything up, of losing Marina.

o0o

Here's what Pearl didn't see:

 **1.**

Marina moved into Pearl's apartment because she didn't have any money, seeing as she came right from Octo Valley after that fateful concert. Pearl put her up immediately, and she never had to pay half the rent because Pearl's father insisted that _any friend of Pearl's is a friend of mine_ —doubly so once they hit it big. Then, it was _anyone who helps Pearl achieve her dream is family_ , so Marina was never panicked for money. That made her grateful, but it also made her aware of things, things that she probably wouldn't have seen otherwise.

Pearl was lonely, Marina realized almost as soon as she walked in to the apartment the first time. It was large and stuffed with things that were meant to take up space: over-stuffed couches, large screen TVs, a dining table fit for twelve, vase after vase of flowers. "From my admirers," Pearl bragged as she brushed a hand over a lily's petal.

Pearl was a princess, that much was clear, and their lives couldn't be more different. Marina wanted the smaller room because she didn't like big, yawning spaces, wasn't used to hearing her own voice echo back at her, and Pearl wanted a room big enough for a king-sized bed. There was a bubble of emptiness that surrounded Pearl, and Marina decided that she was going to fill it.

It was only after their first year of living together, slamming out demo after demo, trying to find an agent, that Marina realized something had shifted. Pearl was more open, less snooty, positive. She was still a princess, yes, and Marina still had to do most of the cooking, but Pearl didn't turn her nose up at everything. Gone were the vases of flowers, along with the dining table, replaced instead with knick-knacks from their travels: a Manta Maria replica, a skateboard purchased near Blackbelly, even a Grizzco gashapon from Pearl's first super bonus. In the place of the dining table they now have a small table with four chairs, and plants. Marina loved viper bowstring hemp because it filtered the air, and Pearl put up with it because Marina loved it.

Now, the apartment was cozy, a mix of both Marina and Pearl, and Pearl was different. Marina was sure that she was different too; she didn't jump at the loud booms of the splatfest fireworks anymore, and nightmares were a rare occurrence. Most of all, she was glad she never had to touch an octoshot again, and Pearl never pushed her to turf war if she didn't want to. It was a nice life, one that Marina was content in, and she didn't want anything to change.

 **2.**

The first time it hit her, they were in an interview. "Ebb & Flow" had been picked up as a turf war song and they were finally making a name for themselves. The interview was something along the lines of "Meet Off the Hook!", hosted by the Squid Sisters.

Callie clearly didn't want to ask it, but the question was on the prompter and it refused to budge. So, she gritted her teeth into a wide, pained smile and said, "So, give us the deets. You two dating or what?"

Which made Pearl panic. Marina knew it when she saw it. She made herself bigger, threw her arms out, and said the first thing that came to mind: "Marina wishes! I'm the biggest catch in Inkopolis!"

Pearl's joke helped Callie and Marie relax, and they asked the next question quickly, didn't dwell on it, but Marina's eyes were wide as the saucers in Octo Valley and she couldn't control them. She looked down at her knees, fists balled on top of her legs, and could only think _oh no_ —

Because it was right there, clear as day. Everything had been moving so fast, changing, adjusting, that she'd missed it, but, _damn,_ she was obvious. She had a huge, _huge_ crush on Pearl.

That... that didn't bode well.

 **3.**

Marina wasn't one to dwell on things. Growing up in a military establishment had taught her that it was better to live in the moment, but this was scarier than all that. She had a crush on _her best friend_ , her _roommate_ , her _partner_ , her... Well, Pearl had saved her, hadn't she? Sure, the Calamari Inkantation had set her free, but if Pearl hadn't found her, she wouldn't have made it this far. She might have ended up in some alley somewhere, struggling to feed herself...

She tried to avoid Pearl for a while, but that didn't work out too well. Pearl was really good at getting into places where she didn't belong, doubly so when she could sense that something was wrong. Marina locked herself in her room and Pearl always found a way to get her to open the door, whether through offerings of food or just but sitting in the hall with her back against the jamb, jabbering away about her day. Then, when they got the news job, they spent all their time together and Marina's whole plan went to shit.

She found herself falling faster and faster. Pearl's soft moments were few and far between, but they did something to Marina that made her insides melt together. Once, late at night, Marina was on the couch, watching an old human movie, something with lots of guns and explosions, and she found herself tight, ramrod straight, reliving memories that she'd rather keep locked away. Pearl appeared, didn't say a word, just turned the TV off and pulled Marina into her room. Her king bed had more than enough room for both of them, but Pearl held her close until the tremors stopped and Marina fell asleep. The next morning, Pearl had breakfast ready when Marina emerged, sheepish. They never talked about it, but the invitation was there, silent, _if you need me, I'm there_.

But, more than anything, Marina loved their dynamic. Their bickering revealed something that only they knew: how well they knew each other, how they danced around each other and their soft spots, only squabbling about things that didn't matter. And the indulgent moments, the times she called Pearl 'Pearlie' on live TV, the times Pearl revealed small things about their lives together, those were moments when Marina could almost believe that Pearl liked her back.

She tried to be obvious. She grabbed Pearl's hand in quiet moments, rubbed her thumb along the back of Pearl's hand, stood close, watched Pearl closely during concerts and interviews. But Pearl never picked up on it. It was almost as if she was ignoring it, actively working to dissuade Marina from her feelings, but Marina liked to believe that Pearl was just oblivious. It was easier that way, and it kept the fire going, kept Marina moving.

 **4.**

After they got Agent 8 situated in the same apartment as Agent 4, Pearl and Marina began the ballet anew. Now there was new information, new questions, new sparks. Marina was very aware of how her hair moved, of how Pearl watched her, of how her hands easily worked the blender, the juicer, the machines of the house that Pearl never could quite get a feel for.

"An Octoling, huh," Pearl said as Marina made midnight breakfast. She broke the one and only rule immediately and it made Marina stiffen. Things were different now, including the rules. She didn't know what to do.

"That's cool," Pearl continued. She carefully took the juicer from Marina's hands, avoiding touching skin to skin. "I'll do it."

Marina let her. "I'm surprised you didn't realize on your own."

Pearl shrugged as she strained some of the juice for Marina. She dumped the leftover pulp into her own cup. "That's what they say about me. If it was a snake, it would've bit me."

It was about something completely different, but Marina couldn't help but feel her heart speed up. There was still hope for her crush, if they could get past this huge secret. "I think you just notice more small things."

Pearl sent her a hard, scared look, as if Marina had discovered some deep secret about her. "I mean," Marina quickly cut across, "that you're more detail-oriented. The big stuff slips through because you're too caught up in the small stuff."

Pearl relaxed and held the glass out. "Maybe. But, you're my best friend. Nothing will change that."

Marina didn't know what to say, so she merely swallowed hard and nodded. She accepted the glass of juice, carefully laying her hand over Pearl's. They looked at their joined hands together, and hung there a moment, hearts pounding. "And you're mine," Marina said, fingers tightening.

 **5.**

There were moments that defined Octoling life. Graduation from Slimeskin Garrison, acceptance into a unit, designing a new weapon, but love wasn't one of them. Marina wouldn't say love was _discouraged_ , but it wasn't valued. Paring up was the norm in the civilian sector, but usually only when parents were needed. She hadn't really experienced it before, but she had spent enough time in Inkling society to know what it was.

Knowing what to do was another thing entirely. She didn't want to screw it up, mostly because she didn't know if she would survive the fallout. But, she also only knew a few things completely: music, the news, and battle.

Battle was something she understood intimately. So, when they found themselves facing down a hoard of Salmonids, she did what she did best: she fought, she won, and she let herself get swept up in the battle nerves, the relief.

She kissed Pearl. Pearl kissed her back. That much she was sure of. She felt every cell in her body gasp for air as they finally met each other fully, and the relief when Pearl pushed back against her, desperate, deepening the kiss, was so palatable that Marina sighed.

It was unlike anything she could ever hope to imagine. It felt like she was being lit from the inside, like her body was filled with helium, like she could float away; it felt like inevitability, like gravity, and they landed together, in a heap.

What she wasn't expecting: the cameras, and Pearl, winding back and lobbing her Splattershot Jr. right at one them. It makes contact, sends up sparks, sends it to the ground. The other camera is gone seconds later, this time from a well-aimed bomb. It doesn't explode the camera, just knocks it out of the air.

Pearl is grinning like a maniac, caught up in the battle fever too, or maybe the euphoria of the kiss, and she pushes the Octobrush out of Marina's hand so she can drag Marina close again. "Finally," she hisses as she grabs the straps of Marina's overalls and drags her down again.

Everything goes up in volutes of thought, and Marina forgets that she's covered in ink. She forgets that they'll have Mr. Grizz to contend with once they get back to the boat. She forgets about their teammates, the poor little things. Everything finally, _finally_ becomes Pearl.

* * *

 _Reviews are cherished._


End file.
